story would not be what it is. Thank you, Guy, Sandra, Leslie, Reed, Jill, Shirley,and Sue.
This book is dedicated to all survivors of child abuse.
CHAPTER 1
“Y ou want me to do what?” Christopher Bennett gawked aghast at
his mother.
Julia returned his gaze levelly. “It's not so much to ask, son.
She's a lovely girl, and I want to introduce you to her.”
Christopher rolled his eyes heavenward in disgust. As he counted slowly in
his mind, trying not to snap at her, his gaze lingering on his surroundings.
Billows of eye-stinging smoke poured from several chimneys atop the multi-
story brick building—the cotton mill the Bennett family owned. Even from the
street, the hiss of steam boilers and the clank of machinery reverberated loudly.
The streets around the factory and the tenement slums on either side sat forlornly
under a blanket of garbage and soot.
The chill, humid air clung to the mother and son, moistening their skin with
musty dew. A breeze picked up, sending the cold straight through Christopher's
coat, which he had flung hastily over his shoulders and left unfastened.
He shuddered. When the wind passed the tenement, it had picked up a vile aroma of human waste and unwashed bodies. A small and skinny child sat on the
step across the road, dressed only in a thin nightgown despite the biting January
cold, playing with some unidentifiable piece of trash.
The scene did nothing to soothe Christopher's temper, and his voice, when he
spoke, sounded harsher than he'd intended. “Mother, I'm much too young for you
to play matchmaker with me.”
“What a shame,” Julia Bennett said, sweeping a strand of fiery hair away
from her forehead and tucking it back under her bonnet. “You're twenty-four, just the age your father was when we met. Please, son. I'm not asking you to marry her, just to let me introduce you.”
“Why?” Christopher insisted.
This time Julia had to take a moment to consider her words. I hate being here.
While I approve of how my husband and son run this factory, I despise the heat
and noise and filth of the place, not to mention its squalid surroundings.
Tenements like this one are a breeding ground for cholera. She shuddered in disgust. Why the devil am I here?
She knew the answer, though she didn't want to explain everything yet. How
can I explain to my son that an everyday visit with friends naturally led to a turnat the harpsichord, which then revealed what the long, lace sleeves had hidden?
She shook her head. It wasn't the first time she had encountered such
heartbreaking marks on the poor girl, and Julia longed to take her away and keep
her safe.
Alas, Katerina is my friend, not my daughter, and I have no right to interfere, but there is another way to wrest her from the care of that monster. It was an impulsive plan, fraught with potential disaster, but here she was anyway.
Christopher regarded her expectantly.
What to tell him? Something true… but not the whole truth. Not yet. “Why introduce you to her? Because she's not very popular and there's no reason for it.
